Day 1: Lewis & Clark Arrive at the Great Falls

July 30, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Following Old Trails, Travel Leave a Comment

First stop and day one is a trip to the Lewis and Clark National Historic Trail Interpretive Center. If there is a local museum, then this is where I always begin.

Our National Park Service does a great job of explaining what happened on the Lewis & Clark expedition, and these centers give me a great point of beginning for each area of the trail. But this one in Great Falls is run by the US Department of Agriculture’s Forest Service.

The falls are an important moment in Lewis & Clark’s 8,000-mile expedition. It was 1805 and as a point of personal reference, I realized that this was only about 23 years before my ancestors made their migration from South Carolina into Florida. Also, America was only 27 years old when Jefferson made the Louisiana Purchase.

His purchase doubled the size of our nation, but Jefferson had already prepared for Lewis & Clark to explore this area long the purchase. So they were already on their way to the west before the ratification of the purchase by Congress was made.

All of this happened during my fifth great grandparents lifetime, Joel and Elizabeth Carter Walker. Maybe they read about it in their local newspaper and discussed it. Or maybe they heard about it by word of mouth. Either way you can be sure it was big news all across the nation in 1805.

The interpretive center is built into a scenic bluff with a spectacular view of the Missouri River. Its highlight is a two-story diorama of the expedition’s portage around not just one but five falls, only one of which is called Great Falls.

A Diorama of the Lewis & Clark Portage

The portage took a month as Lewis, Clark, Charbonneau, Sacagawea, her baby, all their supplies and even the canoes had to be portaged. It was an 18-mile portage in the intense heat of June.

Map Showing the Portage

This is desert country and the prickly pear cacti tortured the men’s feet because their moccasins were not enough to keep the puncturing plants at bay. The members of the expedition became much fatigued.

Here is why they had to portage. The Great Falls of the Missouri River are a series of five waterfalls, which are located within a ten-mile area of the river. Black Eagle Falls is over 26′ high, Colter Falls is over six feet high, Rainbow Falls is over 44′, Crooked Falls is 19′ high, and the Great Falls itself is 97 feet high.

The river drops a total of 612 feet from the first of the falls to the last. Meriwether Lewis said they were the grandest sight he saw on the entire expedition.

The Great Falls portage is through privately owned land and is not open to the public. After all, this is the west, and western water law is what they follow out here.

In the east we do not own the land under our waters, they are sovereign lands. But out here, they do. So to see the falls by water is impossible. You would have to row against the current and then would only see the first falls, as it would be illegal today to portage around the falls.

You can, though, see them from roads and trails. The Interpretive Center is just off of River Road which runs along the south side of the River. Just before reaching the center, I stopped at an overlook to see Black Eagle Falls, which was partially destroyed by a dam. Below is a picture of before the dam and after.

Black Eagle Falls

The Interpretive Center is on Hidden Springs Road just off of River Rd. The center has a great film about the portage with actors in period style clothing. It even had a trained grizzly in the story, but at one point I guess he forgot that he was trained and ran the actor playing Lewis out into the stream. In Lewis’s journal the bear stopped at the edge of the river. I guess he wasn’t that hungry. The scene in the film was a funny, but a very real moment in making the documentary.

They also devised a simulation of what it was like to pull the canoes along over the hard ground. I tried my strength and found out that I was only able to pull the canoe at four miles per hour. And that was only for about 5 seconds. One day they were able to hoist a sail and sail the canoe across.

If you continue past the Center on Hidden Springs Road, you can see Rainbow Falls from another overlook.

Rainbow Falls

Colter Falls is submerged under the reservoir formed by the Rainbow Falls dam. It is the only one of the five falls that cannot be seen, but almost all the falls have been affected by the dams in one way or the other.

Colter Falls

To reach Crooked Falls I hiked down a small trail next to the river leaving from the trailhead at the second overlook on Rainbow Falls. There is a paved trail, but it winds around and is a longer trail. I took the unpaved trail near the edge of the bluff overlooking the river.

I got to a fork in the trail at one point and had my choice of a “more difficult” or a “most difficult” trail to take. Both led to the same place. I took the “more difficult” and still have no idea why they thought it was difficult at all. I wore a pair of plastic Birkenstock slides so I didn’t chance the “most difficult” one.

Finally, I reached Crooked Falls, but the water flow from Rainbow is so low that much of these falls are dry. Still, though, the entire scene was beautiful, as I walked high above the south side of the river. It is only in the mid 80s today, but the sun is intense. Thankfully I had a cross breeze.

Crooked Falls

Next, I went in search of the Great Falls themselves. I drove across the river and took the north side River Road until the Ryan Dam Rd. forked off to the right. It ran through farm lands.

River Rd. on the North Side of the Missouri River, Great Falls

The road curved and I followed it down until it came to a rim of a canyon. The river was below. There was an island below this dam with a wonderful view of the falls and the dam above. A bridge provided foot access to the island.

The Island at Great Falls

But before I got out of the car I took a moment to snack. I was hungry. I had a little packet of an Arbonne fizzy-powdered drink mix to add to my water. My sister gave it to me the last time we were together in Orlando.

So I poured the whole thing into my bottled water, whereupon it erupted. My bottle looked like a pink volcano, and there was no way to stop it, as it flowed out the top and over my hands. I jumped out of the car but not before some of it got on my clothes. Thankfully the car was untouched.

Would have been ok, but there was no running water in the primitive bathrooms and the river was way below in the canyon. Also the volcanic water bottle was my last one. It was a sticky mess that was only alleviated by licking the junk off my hands. Thank you Arbonne and Linda!

I finally made my way over to the island and to a rock outcropping with a view platform. Of course there is much less water spilling over the falls than in Lewis & Clark’s day. It was still quite a sight and even the smaller waterfalls were still magnificent. I took a picture but the angle of the sun is all wrong. It is already past 6 pm.

Great Falls

It was a great first day, and I’ll travel on up the river in the morning. Tomorrow I’ll make it all the way to the headwaters of the Missouri.

How to Plan a Family Heritage Trip

June 12, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Genealogy, Travel 2 Comments

Have you ever been on a Family Heritage trip? Have you ever thought about taking a little trip just to explore your family heritage? It can be a destination or just a side trip on your way to somewhere else. Which is where we were going last week–a trip to some place else.

Chuck and I recently made a road trip to Augusta, Georgia to join in the celebration of his Aunt Betty’s 95th birthday. I explained to Chuck that on the way up to Augusta we would pass through a little town which his ancestors had helped settle. So we left a day early to spend an extra day in Thomson, Georgia.

Thomson Depot & where Capt. Johnston went to go to war.

I knew that Chuck knew very little about his mother’s maternal family, so I took along my iPad with its Ancestry app to help us locate some of the family landmarks. I had already done the research, and my iPad was full of information such as who his maternal grandmother’s parents and grandparents were, where they lived, and where they were buried.

We stopped first in Thomson just west of Augusta, and we found Chuck’s great-great grandparents’ graves in the city cemetery. I had found them online earlier using FindaGrave.com. For those of you who are unaware of this website, it is sourced by volunteers. When someone finds a grave not already on FindaGrave, they are encouraged to add it themselves.

Grave of Capt. & Mrs. William Johnston, Thomson City Cemetery

Just before we got to the little town, I used our GPS to find the cemetery. Finding the grave itself in the cemetery does take time, though. Chuck worked one side of the cemetery, and I worked the other. It helped that we had a picture of the tombstone showing their graves nearby.

A photo of William Johnston in his Confederate uniform sits on a shelf in our den, but this was the first time Chuck really got to know a little about the man himself. As we drove closer to Thomson, I read out loud about William Johnston. I used his Ancestry timeline so Chuck could better understand who it was we were going to find. Chuck calls the act f hunting graves “grave robbing,” but all we were really taking were William Johnston’s memories.

Capt. William Johnston

Chuck learned that his Great-great grandfather was a lumber merchant and later owned a mill and a gin, information found in the 1870 and 1880 censuses. It appears that after the virgin timber was logged out in the area, the people of Thomson moved on to cotton. Chuck’s ancestor’s occupations clearly reflect the economic history of this era in Thomson.

1870 United States Census for McDuffie County, Georgia

We learned a little about William’s wife, Chuck’s second great-grandmother Martha AnnFrancis Stone. Chuck recognized that her maiden name was his grandmother’s middle name. He never knew where that name came from until now.

Also, when I told him that this woman’s mother’s maiden name was Napier, Chuck quickly realized where his Aunt Pier got her name. Everyone called her Pier but it was short for Napier. Learning his ancestors names helped him understand from where several of his family names came.

Chuck’s great grandparents William and Martha had a daughter named Annie Stephens Johnston. When I mentioned this, Chuck said that he remembered this great grandmother. They called her Granny.

She lived a long life and didn’t pass away until Chuck was nine years old. He remembers visiting her home and that one of her adult sons lived with her there but was reclusive in manner.

He remembered his Granny’s house as being a nice home, and he wondered what happened to it. Later while in Augusta a cousin took us on a tour of the city so we could find some of the remembered and earlier residences.

But I’m getting way ahead of myself, because we are still in Thomson. Chuck’s great grandmother Annie married William Lokey, so I looked this family up and found that William Lokey’s father was Samuel Lokey. I wondered where this family was from and found that they too had lived in Thomson.

So I looked up his grave using FindAGrave.com and found it was in a church yard cemetery just a few miles south of town. Again, using GPS we visited this second set of great-great grandparent’s graves.

Sweetwater Baptist Church

We could have tarried much longer in Thomson. as both families were prominent members of the town and I knew that there was probably much more to be found in the town’s local genealogy files and maybe even their local museum; but we had used up most of our time. We left and drove on into Augusta.

Because much of Chuck’s mother’s family history and especially her childhood was in Augusta, I had done some earlier research using literally over fifty years of city directory entries showing street addresses where the families lived, the heads of household occupations, and even added information like when a woman listed herself as a widow but her husband had actually just divorced her. This provided rich information about Chuck’s great-grandmother, his mother, her sisters and their parents.

Augusta City Directory for 1929

Using the addresses found in Augusta’s city directories, we followed the path of Chuck’s grandparents and subsequently his mom’s history as well. Several of the addresses were vacant lots, but you could look at other old homes nearby and tell something about the neighborhood in which they had lived.

We did find one special address where Chuck’s mom had lived when she was a young teenager. It was really interesting to stand before it and imagine her as a young girl hanging out up there on its balcony porch just to catch a summer breeze in the heat of July or August. These southern interior cities aren’t fortunate enough to have sea breezes.

Dody’s home around 1929 was on the top left of this apartment building.

Later, with Chuck’s cousin Ross in tow and accompanied by Chuck’s sister Susan, we looked up their Granny’s home (this was Chuck’s great grandmother Annie Stephens Johnston Lokey). It was just as grand as Chuck described.

It had been moved from one of those vacant lots we had seen earlier. Today that vacant lot is across the street from some recreational fields, but in Dody’s day those fields were a beautifully well-manicured city park with lots of oaks and magnolias.

Chuck’s Granny’s Home

The house is several blocks away, and today it houses the offices of a law firm. But I plan to try to look up historical pictures of the street and park where it once set. It is amazing what you can find online now days using Google.

Using GPS and the city directories we also found his Grandmother’s home where she lived from 1947 until she died in 1988. This is the house that Chuck, his sisters and cousins remember best. I took pictures while Chuck and his sister walked around outside the house, obviously trespassing. I noticed that no one came to investigate, and it was clear that someone was home. Smart people, because Chuck and his sister would have surely asked to see the inside.

One of Chuck’s aunt’s stories told about how her older sister would take the two younger ones and cross the very wide Savannah River using an old railroad trestle. Oh dear! Their parents would have killed them if they had known what they were doing. But all three of those girls lived to be over 90 years old. They were living proof that natural selection does not work every time.

My Sister-in-Law Susan & the trestle where her mother and aunts used to cross over the Savannah River to get to South Carolina on the other side.

We found the trestle and took more photos. Susan and I walked a little ways out, but our adult instincts told us that this was surely dangerous. We quickly returned.

We didn’t focus on Dody’s father during this trip, but we couldn’t help noticing his occupation during all those years between 1917 and his death in 1960. He worked his entire life for the Charleston and Western Carolina (the CW&C) Railroad. He started out as a flagman and continued to promote from one railroad position to the next, including engineer, conductor and finally superintendent where he retired.

Chuck remembered vacationing with his grandfather and step-grandmother when Chuck was a boy. His grandfather had use of a club car typically the last car on the train, and the three of them spent as much as two weeks seeing the country. Chuck remembered playing a lot of canasta and watching the world go by outside the club car windows. The porter brought them their meals, and they slept there at night. He says that today he has no idea where all they went.

A Club Car Photo on Wikipaedia

It was a wonderful two days walking in Augusta where Dody Littlejohn had once tread. We lost her about five years ago now, but our little trip into her past is how her memory will stay alive for her descendants.
I have been sharing some of the photos we took on Facebook with her grandchildren and great grandchildren. I will also add the photos to her family page gallery in Ancestry for future generations to enjoy.

I recently posted this on Facebook for Chuck’s family.

Through research we now know that sharing our family history with our children helps them to be better-grounded adults. A little family trip like this is a perfect way to bring their family heritage to life.
Planning a heritage trip like this involves a few steps.

1. Pick a family and destination. In this case, I knew that we were going to Augusta, so I decided to look up Chuck’s great-great grandfather Johnston, who lived in a town nearby. I started with him because he lived a most interesting life.

2. Research this ancestor and the town where he or she lived. Find two or three sites to visit.

3. GPS the addresses for the sites. Prepare your stops ahead of time.

4. Prepare your family members for what they will see. Read about the ancestor(s). Show them pictures if you have them.

5. After reaching the sites, ask for their help in locating the grave, church, etc. It helps to have photos.

6. Stop after two or three sites a day. You don’t want to bore or overwhelm them. And you want to leave with them asking for more.

7. Follow up with photos on Facebook or another way of networking for other family members who were unable to join you for the trip.

Genealogy: When We Confuse the Dead and Irritate the Living

May 8, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Family Life, Genealogy, Travel Leave a Comment

I loved some of the bumper stickers I saw in the Exhibit Hall at the National Genealogical Society Family History Convention in Ft. Lauderdale. My favorite and the one I bought for my car reads, “Genealogists never die, they just lose their census.”

But another one that I also liked was “Genealogy: When you confuse the dead and irritate the living.”

I thought I saw one somewhere that said, “Genealogy: When you stalk the dead and irritate the young.” Which brings me to something I noticed at the convention. Mostly, we are an older group. Almost everyone was at least 50 to 55.

There has always been concern about keeping our children interested in their family heritage. Yesterday morning there was even a Genealogy Youth Camp offered free of charge. It was filled with activities to help the attendees appreciate their family heritage.

I also noticed while walking around looking at exhibits that there were at least two booths that were specifically aimed at grandmothers with grandchildren. Both were super cute.

One had a book published here in Florida. It is entitled “My Heritage” and is a custom-designed book created by Deana Bufo Novak. It is designed to teach children about their own individual heritage and roots.

The book is custom printed for each child. You can choose up to four different countries where their ancestors came from. When completed it teaches the child about their ancestors’ countries’ languages, traditional clothing, geography and much more.

For Christmas we gave each of our children and their spouses Autosomal DNA testing kits, so now we know the primary ethnicity of each. This book could be an excellent follow-up gift for each grandchild. You can learn more about this book and their other products here.

Another booth had a sign that promised to help me “Zap the Grandma Gap”. It encouraged me to connect with my family by connecting them to their family history.

What a cute idea! A game, a workbook of activities, and much more all designed to help our grandchildren explore their family history. These would make great, summertime activities. You can learn more about Zap the Grandma Gap here.

Finally, another booth was manned by a young woman dressed in period costume. Called History Lines, it features an interactive outline and map, designed so that one can add their own ancestor’s photos, stories, memories and basic vital information.

After it is entered, the software fills in the blanks so that one can explore the lifestyle and culture of their ancestor as they lived in a certain location during a certain era. One can also input how they grew up, were educated, dressed, and even married.

This allows them to follow their ancestor’s migratory history on an interactive map. The software fills in the additional information; and the end product is a story and maps designed so they can explore, build, and share their family’s history.

But I’m thinking that a teenager might enjoy working with History Lines, especially for a history project at school. My daughter Jamie did a history project like this once. She traced her Grandfather Littlejohn’s path during WWII, which took him to places like Cornell University for officer’s training and Omaha Beach during the Normandy Invasion.

She learned a lot about Chuck’s Dad and even more about that historical moment in our history. Later, we used the project to plan our family’s vacation to Europe to see those locations.

I believe software like History Lines would be ideal for a young person to use to recreate their grandmother or grandfather’s story. You can find more information at their website History Lines.

Speaking of travel to Europe, I was especially impressed that the University of Strathclyde in Glasgow, Scotland had a booth encouraging me to study genealogy online. Hmmmm. I wonder if I could talk Chuck into a study program in Scotland. After all, he and I both have ancestors from Scotland; and he has never been there.

All of these would be great ideas for this summer!

Mapping Chromosomes in Ft. Lauderdale

May 6, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Genealogy, Travel Leave a Comment

Some people come to Ft. Lauderdale for the sun and sand. Yesterday, 25 of us genealogical nerds spent our morning mapping chromosomes at the National Genealogical Society Annual Conference. I felt like I was back in graduate school. I signed up and paid extra for this three-hour workshop.

It didn’t take me long to realize I was in over my head and started looking for a quiet way to escape from the room, but then it got better. About twenty minutes into the course our instructor let us know that she was ecstatic when the first person said they were finally getting it. I knew then that I wasn’t alone.

Thankfully, most all of us got it by the end of the three hours. Our instructor was professional genetic genealogist Angie Bush.

I hope to use chromosome mapping to gather more evidence to support a genealogical relationship that is not documented by traditional records, for example in this case census records that do not show relationships.

The 1850, 1860, and 1870 censuses show William and Mary Andrews and several children living with them that may or may not have been their biological children. One of the children was Laura R. Andrews, my great great grandmother; and I am having trouble proving that she is their daughter using these records, which are all I have. I am hoping to use chromosomal mapping to provide more evidence for adding to my proof argument that she is indeed their daughter.

I had already downloaded my Ancestry autosomal DNA results to Family Tree DNA, and so our instructor showed us how we could use FTDNA’s chromosome browser to compare my DNA to my close cousin’s DNA that had also been downloaded earlier. The browser took both mine and my cousin’s results and showed which segments we shared and the location where it was shared on our chromosomes. It also provided an Excel or in my case a google sheets comparison for later use.

Below, you can see where we share some common DNA on chromosome 8.

A Comparison Between Me and a Wilson Cousin

Now the fun really began as she showed us how to fill in the spaces that were and were not matched.

I only had one cousin’s test that I matched, so there were lots of blanks. This means I will have to get a lot more cousins DNA tested in the future, working each one into a master spreadsheet until by process of pairing or elimination a common ancestor can be determined.

Whew! I’m sure you didn’t get that because I’m still not sure I totally understood it myself. What I do have is good information and step by step instructions. I can’t wait to get home and start working on it.

I also attended an in-booth course on how to better understand the DNA Circles and new Ancestor Discoveries at ancestry.com/DNA. Yesterday I took another similar course on some of the recent new features that came out on the regular Ancestry site.

Later in the day, I attended an in-booth course with Lisa Louise Cook who has a very good book on how to do newspaper research. She was teaching some of the shortcuts and search engines that can be used for this type of special research.
I have been reading the “Family Friend’s” issues from 1859-1861, a total of over 140 issues, but I’m almost finished. It is time to try to try to find more years, since I’m researching a period from 1827-1870. By the way the “Family Friend” is what the Monticello News was called in its early days.

All of the In-Booth courses were offered in the NGS 2016 Annual Conference exhibit hall. The hall is full of every imaginable genealogy research technique and society imaginable.

This is my first conference in this center, and the Broward County Convention Center is really a beautiful facility. It sits right next to the intercoastal waterway just north of Port Everglades. There are approximately 1500 registrants here not counting all the speakers, sponsors, and exhibitors.

Tonight, we had a Taste of Florida reception over at a hotel on the intercoastal. It was outdoors around a pool. For once this week, it wasn’t humid; and there was a nice cool breeze.

Earlier this week I overheard some ladies from Minnesota and Wisconsin complaining about the heat and humidity. I couldn’t help thinking that they would probably think this place was somewhere close to hell come August. It reminded me of my mother-in-law’s old saying, “You ain’t seen nothing yet!”

Day 7, The End of the Great Florida Cattle Drive

January 31, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Great Florida Cattle Drive 2016, Travel 16 Comments

I apologize for not getting this out last night, but I think I had a touch of post-cattle drive depression yesterday. The feeling reminded me of our legislative session days, when right after the end of the session, we suffered for a day from something we called post-session depression.

We weren’t sure exactly what it was, but the adrenaline that we had lived on for so long quickly left us and we were almost useless for anywhere from 8-24 hours. It was hard to accomplish anything during that time.

Chuck and I both were lethargic all yesterday afternoon. All we did was drive home; all the way home instead of stopping for the night as we planned. We were like a horse headed for the stall.

Yesterday morning, we got up at 6 AM and by 9 AM the trail boss began the final day of the drive with cattle at the head, wagons next, and riders in the rear. We headed to the Kenansville Rodeo Arena, our final destination.

The Green Bandana group, my group, rode up front with the cattle; and for the first time I wished I was there on a horse. I rode a good bit when I was younger, but haven’t wanted to do it at all this trip until now. I wanted to be up there with the cows and also spend more time this morning with my group. We have met so many new and interesting people here.

Best of all, though, we got a treat before we headed out. The owner of the property said that we could leave our gear and tents here until we came back from the Frolic, the event held after we bring the cattle to the arena. This meant the tent could dry before we put it away. Which also meant we did not have to pitch it again in Tallahassee to let it dry out. What a generous gesture by our host!

We rode in the big red wagon again with Bryce, the young college students, and a member of the press. Court Lewis hosts a radio show called American Variety Radio from Tennessee. You can read about it here.

He and Chuck hit it off right away. Both of them grew up in southeast Florida (he in Miami and Chuck in Ft. Lauderdale) and both fished as youngsters and shared a life-long love of this sport. They talked fishing the entire time.

Speaking of the press and media, photographer Carlton Ward was with us doing his aerial photography from a helicopter on the last day of the drive. The helicopter followed the herd.

He does very good work, and you can look at some of his Florida cattle and cowmen photos at CarltonWard.Com. The link will take you to those photos. We are so fortunate that he has photo documented so much of our beautiful state.

Carlton Ward Photo

Again, because of the rain and all the water in the woods and in the pastures, the wagons left the drive to go out on the road to get to Kenansville. All of the riders and the cattle went on the trail. We met them again at the rodeo arena.

On Friday night Florida’s Commissioner of Agriculture Adam Putnam visited us, joined us for dinner, and spent the night at the camp. He rode with the cattle drive the next morning. Our Commissioner comes from a cattle and citrus family in central Florida.

Commissioner Putnam

Chuck and I had a chance to talk to him and when he hugged my neck, I almost cringed because I was afraid that we smelled. Hardly any of us got a proper bath in a week, and my hair is dirty. Add to that the smell of being around burning fires all week long, and I’m sure civilized people shouldn’t stand next to us.

I wasn’t one of the lucky ones that took a bath in a creek next to one of the evening camps. Several people took a bath that night, but I never even knew the creek existed until we were several days down the trail.

Although, frankly, the whole damn place is a creek of sorts, and I could have stepped away almost anywhere. I did wash my hands numerous times in little puddles, and I guess that is why there is dirt under my nails and around my cuticles. My nails are a mess.

For the special occasion of the driving in of the cattle, riders, and wagons, I wore my soiled brown pioneer skirt with a clean white blouse, not tucked in and with a nice leather belt worn on the outside of the blouse. Elizabeth would have wanted to dress up for this day, where they paraded us around the arena in front of the crowd.

We traveled again down US 441, and again we were a parade. People came out of their homes to take pictures, and the traffic waved and took photos as they passed. We were again escorted by the Osceola County Sheriff’s Department.

The sheriff’s department did a wonderful job of helping us move across the public highways. They held up traffic on this road several times as the drive crossed back and forth during the week. When we crossed, it really held up a lot of traffic. It took a long time to get all the cattle, horses, and wagons through, even though they stopped and let traffic go between the groups.

I wondered if the semi drivers were upset, since for them time is money. It seemed most of the trucks were hauling some type of agricultural product. Several years ago when I was working, I found out that more than 25% of all semi trucks on Florida roads haul some type of raw agricultural product. After all, Florida is seventh in the nation in agricultural production. This did not count all the Publix, Winn-Dixie and Wal-Mart grocery trucks. It takes a lot of food to fjeed America three times a day every day, and a lot of Florida’s products are shipped north and all over the world!

Anyway, this is a big agricultural area in Florida; and on Friday morning just as the first members of the camp were beginning to wake up and stir about, a semi truck out on US 441 ran by the camp and just sat on his horn. Our green group’s camp was right by the highway, so we suffered the brunt of the bellowing truck. I believe it was some form of pay back from one of those poor drivers who had been sitting in the very unusual traffic jams way out here caused by our giant cattle drive.

The Green Camp

There is a different jargon spoken on farms, ranches and especially here on this cattle drive. The young women in our wagon are the ones who are coordinating the media. One of the young cowmen asked them what their job entailed. When they explained, he said, “So you are the media wranglers.” Smiling, one girl replied, “I guess you’re right.” He added, “So, it’s like herding kittens, huh?”; and she said, “Well, maybe so. They seem nice enough.” You just got a love the lingo that you listen to here.

I spent my time on the final portion of the drive asking Bryce lots of questions about handling a team of mules, a team of oxen, problems that might occur to a wagon that has a long distance to travel, etc. Bryce as a farrier and drover is a wealth of information, so I got his phone number in case I have other questions when I begin writing the migration portion of the book.

He handled the two Percheron draft mules named Beckie & Bonnie commanding “Gee, gee, gee,” to turn them right. They were very well trained. By the way for these mules gee is the command to turn their heads and walk right, and haw means left. Back is back and a click click with the mouth means forward.

We turned off of US 441 onto the south end of the Canoe Creek Road heading north. We passed through Kenansville and by the Heartbreak Hotel and an old renovated bank.

Someone said that the hotel was for sale. It is famous in these parts for having housed thousands of cattle drovers and woods men since it was built in 1915. This part of Kenansville seems to be a ghost town today, but in the late 1800s it was a cattle town sitting on an old military trail that was later used for driving cattle north to the railroads. It was called Whittier then. A sawmill came to Whittier, and it continued to grow.

Kenansville’ Old Bank

Later in 1911, Flagler built his railroad line through here on its way to Okeechobee; and the renamed Kenansville became a railroad boomtown. Its recently built hotel was called the Piney Woods Inn. In 1955 the inn was bought by new owners who renovated and renamed it the Heartbreak Hotel. Elvis was in Florida at the time doing a tour, but no one is sure whether this was just a coincidence. Here is a story about Kenansville and also about Elvis’s tour. Elvis’s song “Heartbreak Hotel” was released as a single in 1956.

The railroad pulled up its tracks, the depot disappeared, and the town became what it is today.

Finally, we got to the arena; and because of the crowd we went ahead and paraded the wagons through. We were just riding, as we had been doing for days, when all of a sudden the crowd in the stands roared. We forgot again that we were a spectacle. We waved to the crowd, and the applause got even louder. It really surprised us to be such celebrities.

The cattle and riders were not in sight yet. People were standing on top of anything high enoughto watch the drive come in. Others walked out to meet them.

Chuck and I knew that a helicopter would be following the herd; and since it wasn’t in sight, we took the time to go get our car and move it closer to the entrance of the arena. Also, we had been warned the night before that the parking area where all our cars, trucks, horse trailers, and stock trailers were parked was a rain-soaked mucky mess. They had three large Caterpillars ready to pull us out whenever we wanted to leave.

So we waded through the muck back of the arena, and it was truly a mess. Deep ruts and standing water everywhere. We had trouble finding the car, because the roads were unrecognizable. You couldn’t see where they had been. Finally, we found it, thanks to modern technology. We set off its alarm.

I thought we did real well driving about 200 feet when we hit an area where we could no longer get traction. We were done. Chuck went and got one of the Caterpillars. They could find no tow bar except in the back, so they towed us out from behind.

[Read more…]

Day 6-Evenings Around the Cattle Drive’s Campfires

January 30, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Great Florida Cattle Drive 2016, Travel 6 Comments

Only one more day and night to go on the Great Florida Cattle Drive.

Evenings on the drive are magical. There are campfires and the sounds of the nigh, talking, laughter, the cracking of whips, and quiet horses and mules. At least for now. We can hear coyotes way off, and the temperature is dropping. Earlier tonight, we had a large bonfire; and it was truly needed.

In the photo above, you can see the Seminole Tribe of Florida leading us in their Long Dance. More on this later.

We learned so much about the history of our state on this drive. For example, they mentioned tonight something that I had just read in “Florida Cowman” by Joe Akerman, Jr. All these years I thought the county of Alachua got its name from an Indian word, when in fact it comes from a Spanish Ranchero owner named de la Chua. There were ranches all over our state during our Spanish occupation

Just before the drive Chuck read, “A Land remembered” by Patrick D. Smith. This book should be on the “must read” list for every Floridian. I cannot think of a better book about Florida and its early frontier days. Another good book is “The Yearling” by Marjorie Kinnon Rawlings who lived among the Old Florida crackers and captured their spirit in this beautiful, moving story.

But I digress. We got up to a cool morning as the temperature was about 55°, and the wind was blowing. It was quite chilly, too chilly for us Floridians.

They let us sleep an hour longer so the alarm went off at 6 AM, but we were awake before the alarm. A horse very near our tent was constantly whinneying. Then we heard someone yelling from the other end of the camp that a horse was loose and down there. Horses are very social creatures. I wanted to yell back that I was sure it belonged here near us, so please return the thing so we can all get back to sleep. Good grief!

Breakfast was the standard eggs, bacon, sausage, and biscuits that we had every morning while on the cattle drive. The announcements though let us know that we will be hanging around camp all day.
There was a farrier demonstration at 10:30 AM. Two very gifted farriers with help from some others made a horse shoe and a mule shoe on the spot. These guys are super good.

Bryce, our wagon driver, is on the right. They also talked about blacksmithing and how it was used before and during the Civil War and its importance to the armies on both sides. It was important enough to the south that the iron cities were the first to be hit by the North.

Otherwise, this morning it was so good to just straighten up the camp, and I actually put some makeup on and combed my hair better.
I am in period clothing today wearing the dark green skirt; but instead of a white blouse I decided to wear a flannel shirt. It is cool and I believe Elizabeth Walker would’ve done the same or used some warmer material.

While I was sitting on the ground listening to the farrier demonstration, I noticed a little girl in a white dress cracking a whip out back of the wagons. She had on a blue vest with white skirt, and I took some pictures. She was very good with the whip and could probably teach the little boys many of which were struggling with it.

The children added so much to the drive. Here are others practicing with their whips and ropes.

Yesterday we had to get Chuck a new green bandanna. We have to wear ours because it shows that we are supposed to be here like when we get our meals etc. They wanted everyone to wear theirs today, because this camp is on US 441 and people could walk into the camp uninvited.

We are the North Florida region, and all of us wear green bandannas and camp in a circle around our stock trailers, the same ones that moved our gear and supplied our group’s horses with hay from day to day.
By lunch time the sky had almost completely cleared, and the sun was shining brightly. It was still breezy, but there was a pleasant coolness to the air. It’s a great time to be in Florida.
While waiting in line for lunch, we talked to some ladies from another camp, the light blue camp. They said that we were not the only camp with runaway horse problems. It seems that two nights ago a half a dozen horses ran away and were running together through their camp. It seems to be a recurring problem all over.
Last night we sat with a group of young girls, all teenagers; and they told us about riding with the herd yesterday. They said a deer jumped up in the middle of the herd out of the palmetto and was running into the cattle bouncing off back-and-forth. It caused the herd to separate and caused a minor stampede. It sounded as if the cowmen had their job cut out for them. The kids got to watch the cur dogs bring the herd back together.
Historically, cur dogs or cow dogs as others called them were used to flush wild cattle from the scrub and swamps, and the men who accomplished that difficult and dangerous task also used these dogs to keep herds together as they drove them. These dogs are still used today.
After lunch Chuck and I took a walk around the perimeter of the ranch, but had to stop because of standing water throughout much of the back pastures. We did find the herd which was pinned up next to one of the camps, and there were the two longhorn cracker cattle there. They were up front near the gate, as if they were protecting the rest of the herd. I know we kept our distance, though I hear they are still fairly gentle.
Afterwards, we joined a group of our own camp members. They were from Panama City, Saint Augustine, and one man was originally from Polk County but now lives in Georgia. Anyone from out of state is in our camp.
We met a couple from Oldtown, Florida, and they brought us what is considered a delicacy here at the camp. It was a Diet Coke. We haven’t had a soft drink all week, and I’m not sure where they got theirs from unless they packed it in with their 60 pounds. Chuck was thrilled.
Dinner was wonderful. We had steaks and coconut cake. Afterwords there was a presentation by the Seminole Tribe of Florida. It was explained to us the history of cattle ranching by the Seminoles.
Today they have their cattle operations at the Brighton and Big Cypress Reservations. We listened to them talk about the Seminole Indian War and how a lot of it centered around their being able to raise cattle. By the way to their tribe there is no first, second and third Seminole Indian war. To them there was just one continuous Seminole Indian War.
Much of the history was very colorful such as during the days when the Seminoles drove their cattle up to Jacksonville while the Lykes family took their cattle to Jacksonville along the same route. When the two drives got too close to one another, they would shoot at each other.
He also explained that the last United States Calvary soldier killed during the Seminole Indian War was buried between the two Capitols in Tallahassee. Florida has an old and a new Capitol, one standing in front of the other. All those years we walked across Red Square (that is what we call that area), and we never realized what was buried below.
After dinner and the presentation, we all gathered around a very large bonfire; and the tribe honored us by dancing their corn dance which is only done privately. Afterwards we went back to the tent, where the temperatures already dropped to the low 50s.

It was a wonderful day, and we look forward to the end of the trail tomorrow in Kenansville at the Frolic. More importantly though, we really look forward to a hot bath and a warm bed tomorrow night.

Day 5 – Dante Never Went on the Great Florida Cattle Drive

January 29, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Great Florida Cattle Drive 2016, Travel 4 Comments

Yesterday morning Chuck said, “Dante had it wrong. There aren’t seven levels of hell, there’s eight. Dante didn’t know, because he never went on this cattle drive.”

I thought, well, they said that this wasn’t for sissies.

Chuck’s Dante comment came right after he cracked his head on the little silver aluminum table that set right by his bedroll. He bled like a stuck hog and required a quick bandaid. What a way to wake up, for both of us. My alarm clock was his howl.

We got up at our usual 5 a.m. It wasn’t raining as much, but there were still intermittent showers. I had a leak over by my sleeping bag, but it was just a small puddle that didn’t wet anything but the floor.

We must be living right, because I had to go to the port-a-potties twice last night; and the rain stopped both times right on cue. You come to appreciate the simplest little things out here.

We weren’t so lucky later, though. We broke camp in the rain. Everything we owned was either wet or damp. We do have a dry bag, a large waterproof duffel, with our clean clothes; but even they seemed a little clammy. It rained on and off for over 24 hours. Today’s forecast was no better.

We found out that the trail today is so wet that the wagons won’t even be able to make it. We thought that this was a signal that we shouldn’t try to follow the cattle either.

Flooding everywhere on the Cattle Drive

By 8:30 a.m. we pulled out with our red wooden show wagon with its mule team made up of Beckie and Bonnie. I called this a show wagon because it looked like something that you would see in a circus parade, except stripped down.

Hitching the mules in the rain.

We watched them hitch the two mules, and then we left the Three Lakes Wildlife Management Area where we stayed last night. We rode down US 441 to the next evening camp on another ranch south of Kenansville. We are truly our own parade. Traffic stops to take pictures. Again, we enjoyed listening to the chatter of the young people in our wagon.

Along the way Heather, one of the girls riding with us, sliced a cylinder of fresh, uncooked swamp cabbage, also known as heart of cabbage palm, our state tree. You can boil this to make swamp cabbage stew or you can chop it up for a slaw. Normally, I just add some sliced to my green salad, but I buy it already canned as Hearts of Palm. We snacked on it as we rode down US 441. It was left over from last night.

Heart of Palm, otherwise known in Florida as Swamp Cabbage

We will be at our next camp for two nights. Thank goodness, because both of us are sick and tired of being sick and tired of setting up and breaking down this camp.

We had not seen hide nor heard of the cattle drive this morning as they rode out earlier. We were all wondered if our celebrity walker could make it through today, too, with the herd or his group. My guess is that he will.

This farmer walked the entire drive.

By the way he is a farmer who grows turnips and other produce from Lake City, Florida. He is doing this walk, because his deceased lady friend walked this same drive ten years ago. He is doing this walk in her memory.

I have a feeling her conditions were not this wet. His fifty miles will be much tougher to accomplish, but he is determined to do it.

We ate a quick lunch, and thank goodness we re-established our camp early today. It rained lightly all morning, but it came in heavy again around 4 pm. The tent had a chance to dry some in between.

Chuck and I shared a Jack and Orange and sat and listened to the rain and the cracking of whips. The kids practiced their new skills, even in the rain. Apparently, some of the Cowmen taught them how to crack a whip.

Kids practiced cracking their whips.

Speaking of kids there are several on the drive. Yesterday, I watched a grandfather and his granddaughter riding together. They crossed a swollen creek. She looked to be about eleven or twelve. In another group were grandparents, parents and two children.

Last night we listened to another cowboy poet who grew up in Florida. His poems were about some of Florida’s more famous cowmen such as Bone Mizell, Jacob Summerlin, and Captain James McKay, who was key in forming the Florida Cow Cavalry or the “”Cattle Guard” as they were also known during the War Between the States or the War of Northern Aggression as my grandmother would say. Most everyone else calls it the Civil War.

Florida’s cattle was what fed the Confederate Army until the end of the War, and it was cattle drives like this that transported the cattle north to the railroad lines up near Baldwin east of Jacksonville and earlier as far north as Savannah, Atlanta, and Columbus, Georgia. They made sure the cattle got to their destination, driving them about 8 to 9 miles a day, a grazing rate.

Cracker Steers

You can read all about this in a book called “Florida Cowman” by Joe A. Akerman, Jr. I am currently reading another book by him and his son J. Mark Akerman called “Jacob Summerlin: King of the Crackers”.

Another sound in our rainy afternoon camp is the braying moan of the mules. Many are tied up under the oak trees in an oak hammock right in front of our tent.

They don’t do it a lot and not in response to each other. All of a sudden, though, you’ll just notice a long drawn out lonesome bray. Chuck says that it is the mule moaning, “Ohhhhh. I don’t waaant to be a mule.” Apparently, Chuck thinks a mule’s life is much sadder than a horse’s.
It was a nice relaxing day, but I missed watching the cattle drive itself.

I didn’t my pioneer-style skirt and blouse today. I brought jeans for these two days. These were also the two days with rain in the forecast. Can your you imagine dragging around all that material soaking wet? So instead I planned to wear jeans, flannel and rain gear.

Below, we met some interesting cowmen out here. (This is an older photo.)

So which cowboy plans to dismount, restrain him, and tie his three legs together? The one in the picture or the other one not seen at the other end of the other rope.

Day 4 of the Cattle Drive–Flooding & a Stampede

January 28, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Genealogy, Great Florida Cattle Drive 2016, Travel 8 Comments

The Mess Tent

Every evening here on the Great Florida Cattle Drive we got an update on what to expect the next day. We split up into six different regions, and each region has a circle boss. We camped with our regions and rode or walked with our regions, and each day a different region moved forward to ride with the herd.

We expect storms and much rain tomorrow.

Tonight, though, they told us that we will ride tomorrow rain, shine, or lightning. They thought that we should not be near the big metal and canvas tent that follows us for every evening stop. Also, it wouldn’t be safe to stay in our personal tents either. They also said we would leave at 8 am, same as the day before. They wanted to beat the rain.

So after the evening’s entertainment by a cowboy poet, we went back to the tent. I looked up the hourly forecast to see what to expect. It showed a 60% chance of rain beginning at 1 am and continuing to rise until 8 am when it was 85% rain. Oh boy! We were already stressing about breaking camp in the rain.

Stampede

We went to bed early, but about 1:15 a.m. the rain woke me up. Then it stopped fairly soon thereafter, so I quickly got up to go to the port-a-potties. As I was unzipping the tent, I heard a calamity outside. It was close. It sounded like a runaway stagecoach ran right past our tent. I wondered if someone had left a wagon hitched, and their stock had run away with their wagon.
I stepped out of the tent and looked and listened for any more signs of runaway horses. Then I listened hard for stampeding hoofs. When I thought the coast was clear I ran across to the port-a-potties. Horses all around us, who were still penned, were noisily fussing back and forth to each other.

While I was at the potties I could hear people yelling to each other. I heard one man yelling in the dark, “Is anyone hurt? Is everyone ok?” Then I heard talking, something about a tent; and I thought, “Lord, I hope they weren’t dragging a tent.”

There are lots of tents in the camps, and most are little pulp tents, several darkly colored. It was starting to get a little scary. I wondered if the rain had softened the ground, and some horses had gotten loose and were running together.

As I walked back to our tent, I passed a lady leading a horse in the other direction. This one had one of those little lights on him. A lot of the horses have these, and it helps us to keep from walking into one of their temporary pens in the dark.

As I watched another person leading a horse, I heard someone down at the end yelling, “Has anyone lost a horse? Check your horses!” So I figured there were at least three who ran away. I still had no idea what they were dragging behind them.

I settled back down and looked over at Chuck but he was sound asleep. All that noise, and I don’t think he even moved.

So I got back in my sleeping bag, when I noticed all this chatting. I laid there wondering what was going on. It sounded like about a dozen or more people were talking, so I got up and unzipped the front to see what was going on at 1:30 in the morning. Over at the port-a-potties were two lines of people waiting and talking. I guess the horses woke up a bunch of people that had to go.

Time to Move Them Out

Breakfast was right on time at 6 am, and it had been steady raining all night since after the horse stampede. And now it was also windy, but it was a nice breeze. Kind of refreshing.

The thought of breaking camp in this wind and rain, though, was daunting. We thought it was ludicrous to make everyone move in this rain. We talked about balking, but we knew we wouldn’t do it. We’re cattle just like those bovines we’re driving.

So instead we got a miracle. About the time we got back and starting rolling up our bedrolls and repacking, the rain stopped. We hurried to take advantage. The wind was helping, too. It was actually drying things out a little. We broke camp in record time, carried our 60 pound bags to the stock trailer, and caught a wagon for the day.
I can walk this one, because the blisters are basically gone. It is supposed to be a short day, but we don’t know how much water is in our path. Everything down here is super saturated. So we decided not to risk it and fall behind again.

We hopped a ride on a large wooden red wagon driven by Bryce from Zolfo Springs. Two very tall mules pulled the wagon.

Believe me, this was the life of Riley after the last two days. We sat high up and could see forever. At times we followed right behind the cattle. We watched them collect the strays and bring them back in. We watched the Cowmen do their jobs.

With us in the wagon were Edith and several students from the College of Agriculture at the University of Florids/IFAS. One was from Ag Education & Communication, another was studying Animal Sciences. It was fun to talk to them. Their enthusiasm was great! Of course, it helped that I spent nine years working for IFAS at UF.

The driver and I discussed what might have made up the Walker’s foundation herd of cattle for my book. This is Mary’s family. He and I both agreed that they were probably a smaller species of cattle from Britain that bred well with Florida’s scrub or Cracker cattle and which also gave good milk. We both read about this breed that were brought to the new world by the British and had done well in state’s like South Carolina where Mary and her family drove their cattle from to Florida.

I also noticed the wagon driver trying to fight the monotony of the job. Every once in a while he quickly pulled back on the reins before his mules bumped into the wagon ahead. Also, the wagon behind noticed that we had a wheel that was dragging. They yelled, “Hey, your back left wheel’s a draggin.” I was getting rich material for the book.
On this part of the drive we drove the cattle through long leaf pine and loblolly pine forests with a palmetto floor. It was especially beautiful seeing the bright green raindrops glistening on the fronds. It was even more striking with the hundreds of cattle and horses with their riders weaving through the woods, many of which were wearing their Stetsons and yellow slickers. What a sight!

By the way the photo below was by Carlton Ward. None of us captured this better than him. You can see more of his work at his website. You can link to it here.

Photo by Carlton Ward, Great Florida Cattle Drive

By the way signal problems aren’t the only problem out here. I ran out of chargers. I have only one left. I don’t know how long it will last. So when the posts stop, I’m sorry. I’ll keep writing and will post the last days of the cattle drive on Saturday or Sunday when we reach a hotel room and a hot bath. (Note: I was able to get help from others, so the posts kept coming.)

We are glad we didn’t try to walk today. It is boggy and there are major ponds in the low places of the roadbeds. At one point I noticed that it came up to the bellies of the team of mules following us.

Speaking of the mules, I just love to hear them bray. It is like a long bellowing screeching exhale, followed quickly by several staccato snorts with a squealing sound as they suck air back in. The two behind us sounded off several times. I haven’t heard it in years, and it is a wonderful sound like something from my childhood.

We drove the cattle through Three Lakes Wildlife Management Area. I’ve been here once before but it was back when I worked at the Florida Game and Fresh Water Fish Commission in the 1990s. Mostly this part was a pine forest with a palmetto floor. There is standing water, though, throughout the forest. Later, we moved through a campground with mostly hunters, and they came out to watch the spectacle. I guess we are quite a show.

Finally, we got to our lunch and evening camp. We are done for the day by 1 pm. It has been a beautiful day. Chuck and I loved every minute of it.

Problem is, though, it started raining almost immediately; and we had to pitch the tent in the rain. Fortunately, it doesn’t leak. Unfortunately, it poured from then until we went to bed.

Chuck and I got out the camp chairs and sipped bourbon. After a while, the rain was just a nice addition. The cracker cattle grazed in a penned area right next to the camp. There are several Longhorns there who are definitely the dominant ones.

At dinner when they served swamp cabbage, we heard from almost everyone that their tents were leaking like a sieve. Our tent is new; but we’re thinking ours will begin leaking, too, sooner if not later.

By the way, remember the runaway horses who stampeded past our tent last night? Well, we finally heard the rest of the story. It seems a horse got lose but was tied to his feed bucket. He ran and the louder that bucket made a racket following along behind him, the faster he got.

While trying to get away from his feed bucket, he ran through several of those temporary pens where other horses were housed for the evening. Those horses joined him and the bucket and the ropes and other pieces of metal from the pens was what was clanging behind them as they stampeded through the camp. They snatched up a lady’s tent as they ran through, but I think they just pulled it down as they passed. I heard she was unhurt.

Wish us luck that the rain stops, and we have no more stampeding horse incidents.

Some pictures from earlier years are below.

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Young and old riders.

Day 3 of the Cattle Drive – Tenderfoot Tuesday

January 27, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Great Florida Cattle Drive 2016, Travel 2 Comments

Well, we got up early for the cattle drive, and finally we knew what we were going to do at 5:30 am. The night before we thought we might be able to walk along with the wagons, which is always a shorter route in this cattle drive; but now we know our fate.

Early Morning. A By-Gone Era, A Tree Growing in an Old Cattle Chute

The blisters I got the day before were worse than I thought. The one on my left foot that was doctored and bandaged was nothing, but the two on my right heel that I didn’t even realize were bad until I removed my sock was a problem. I’m the tenderfoot who is keeping us from walking today.

Our friend Edith hopped a ride on one of the wagons, but this cattle drive today was along the eastern shore of Lake Kissimmee, a special ride. Because they waded in water most of the day, the wagons couldn’t go with them.

Neither could the walkers, supposedly; but we have a celebrity walker with us. A farmer walked the entire route so far and yesterday walked with the cattle. Today, they tell me that he waded sometimes through waste deep water but never fell behind. They say he is a fast walker.

Amazing!

It seems there are only five walkers on the entire drive. I’m afraid I’m the least capable of the five.

Chuck yesterday pulled a groin muscle, but today was better. The day before, he went a little downstream of us looking for a better place to cross. I followed him as he approached what looked like a narrower part. He said, “I think this might…,” and I said, “Chuck, I don’t think…” And just like that he went to step across and slid right into the deep stream. I was going to tell him that it looked slick there and deep there. It all happened so quickly.

So maybe this day on the cattle drive was meant to be. He got to rest his groin muscle, and I got to give my feet a break.

We broke camp quickly after another wonderful breakfast. We hitched a ride with one of the stock trailers. They use the trailers to transport all the duffels and hay for the horses from camp to camp. They took us to the next evening campsite.

We got a chance to put up our tent early and let it dry out. We even got to sit and read. We’re in another large pasture but this one was a good pasture, free of briars and boggy areas.

The day before, the field we camped in was full of short briars. My dress, pantaloons and petticoats were constantly picking up the hitchhikers. Those darn briars were always grabbing at me, and my dress was like briar Velcro. My lower legs got all scratched up.

Also the field had ant beds. I was busy helping Chuck pitch the tent when all of a sudden I felt something biting me way up on one of my legs. I went to clawing and a stomping. Those darn things were in my petticoats.

I liked to never got them out of there and thought about just stepping out of all my skirts altogether. After all I’ve worn whole swimsuits with a lot less material than what was in those pantaloons. Just when I thought the situation was under control, I would feel another bite. We finally got the tent up enough so I could step inside and take care of the rest of the biters.

My Fashion Statement for the Day

At lunch one of the stock truck drivers picked us up and drove us to the mid-day campsite. We got there just in time to watch the cattle come in. It was an amazing sight.

The young man is a fire rescue person from Indiantown, which is near the eastern shore of Lake Okeechobee. He also owns land and raises cattle. We enjoyed visiting with him.

When we got to the mid-day camp, everyone was talking about how pretty the morning cattle drive was. Lake Kissimmee is the third largest lake in Florida, and the area they rode through was where the lake was surrounded by pastures.

We met two little boys, who were there with their dad. One was nine and the other one was seven. They were there because their dad wanted them to experience this Old Florida tradition.

Both were super polite and very personable. It was “yes mam” and “no mam”, and they could both carry on good conversation. They told me about their Nana who had ten grandchildren, the oldest of which was 20 and the youngest was the younger boy talking to me. They also told me about their morning ride.

Next to the lunch camp is a little stand of pines, and up high in one of the pines is a very large nest. It is an eagle’s nest, and two eagles patrolled and fussed at us when we first arrived. Later, only one eagle was circling, and we saw a white head pop up from the nest once.

Many of us especially those of us older layed down in the grass and took a nap. It was very relaxing, though I did keep a sharp ear out for any runaway horses. I didn’t want my obituary to have anything in it about trampling horses.

An Afternoon Nap as Storm Clouds Threaten

It was a short drive this day, only about 8 miles altogether as the drive moved on after lunch for the three remaining miles to the evening camp. I could have walked it, I believe; but my smart husband pointed out that the skies were darkening and looking like rain. It could possibly rain on us before we got back, and we did not have our rain gear.

I agreed, and our stock driver took us back to the evening camp.
We got our first chance to sit down and sip a little bourbon while we waited for the rest of the group to come in which turned out to be a special treat.

We Watched the cattle driven in and all the horses and riders, too. It was a busy time with everyone setting up their camps all around us. They had to take care of their horses as well as themselves, setting up pens and pitching tents. Luckily, the horses were too tired to misbehave much.

It may rain tonight so we spent extra time staking down our tent. This ground is hard, and I pounded some extra sturdy stakes into the ground with a mallet. If it doesn’t rain, we’ll probably need a pair of pliers to pull them back out. Those were storm clouds earlier this afternoon, so we don’t want to take any chances.

I’m tired of wearing these long dresses, though they have been remarkably comfortable. I’m a fashion statement today in drab green. Actually, I did my shopping before I left at the toniest of boutiques called “Goodwill”.

I got the idea of simply wearing a long dark full skirt and white blouse from looking at old photos like the one below.

Also, Chuck and I recently watched “Lonesome Dove” again. I noticed that Gus’s longtime love Clara also dressed this way.

Day 2 of the Cattle Drive, Monday’s Misfortune

January 25, 2016 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Genealogy, Great Florida Cattle Drive 2016, Travel 18 Comments

The cattle drive was a misadventure from the moment we got up. About the only thing that went perfectly was the alarm clock that rolled us out of bed on time. Thus, this is how our day began on the Great Florida Cattle Drive, 2016.
I spent time to dress in period clothing. I wanted to think about Elizabeth Walker and her 400 mile walk from South Carolina. What was it like for her to follow her husband all that way behind a foundation herd and dragging along their five children.
As I put on each garment, I tried to imagine what her mornings might have been like. Did she dress quickly and get cooking right away, or did she pick up and feed the baby first. Did Jesse get up first and make her a fire?

I tried to dress quickly, not just because I thought she probably did it that way but also because it was cold. I could see my breathe. I quickly slipped on a pair of pantaloons, a long under slip, chemise, ruffled petticoat and finally over all this a full-length brown skirt and white blouse.

I have to admit that I fudged though. For the low temperatures I added a white turtleneck under the blouse–one that I had worn the day before. Lord, I was tired before I even stepped out of the tent.

Breakfast was standing in a long line for a long time; but the grits, bacon, eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy were wonderful.

Breaking camp was an adventure in itself. The tent was soaking wet. It was 36 degrees when we got up with a heavy dew. On the positive side, the waning full moon was wonderful. It was like sleeping under a spotlight in the tent. I never had to have a flashlight to go to the port-a-potty, three trips in one night. geesh!

On three different occasions runaway horses flew near our campsite. All three were already saddled, and one ran through with another unsaddled and unbridled horse following her. One of the horses caused another man’s horse to get a little crazy, and I felt in danger while rolling up the tent of being stepped on by the whirling horse. I jumped up and almost ran over a very surprised Chuck. All the horses were frisky and competitive with so many other horses so close by.

We were required to load our two 60-pound duffel bags and deliver them to an assigned stock trailer. Everyone was throwing theirs in, but the glut of duffels at the door were stacked too high for us to do the same. So Chuck being the Good Samaritan that he is, got up in there and began moving them farther back. People started bringing theirs in and throwing them to Chuck. He spent a good 20 extra minutes there, too nice to let them know that we were not the hired hands.

So that is how we missed the wagons, which we were supposed to walk beside. We looked up and they were almost out of sight. We thought it wouldn’t be a problem, since there were still hundreds of horses and riders milling around waiting for their turn to go. We set out on foot and began our journey.

We thought we were walking eight to ten miles today. We were wrong. It turned out to be 13, eight before lunch.

There has been a lot of rain here; and all the ditches, streams, and wet prairies are full. Within an hour, our feet were soaking wet. Waterproof doesn’t mean a thing when the water is over your shoe tops.

Chuck slid partially into a stream once. By then the temperatures had risen considerably. It dropped to 36 last night but by the time we finished it was in the low 70s.

Riders kept passing us. A lady named Edith from Gainesville joined us. She was walking by herself and caught up with us when we were looking for a way to cross a swollen stream.

Together the three of us kept moving along. Finally, I began to get a blister after about six miles of walking in wet socks. An EMT truck stopped to help and that was the last we seen of anyone else.

We walked from field to field, through unimproved pastures and improved pastures, following tree lines, crossing into gated fields, and all we had to guide us were tracks and fresh horse manure. We took several wrong turns and had to backtrack.

One time we walked over a quarter mile not knowing if we were exactly on the trail or not until we stumbled across a family in a broken down covered wagon, waiting for for the forest service to come pull them out. They offered water and cookies, and I would survive to regret not taking them up on the offer.

The countryside was beautiful though.

Me and Edith

Lunch came and went. We knew that they were stopping for lunch, but we had no idea how far we had fallen behind.

About 12:30 pm the Johnelle in me revolted and refused to go any further without rest and some food. We stopped under some pine trees and dined quickly on water and peanuts. Thank goodness Chuck brought a large zip-lock bag of nuts.

In the meantime Edith called her daughter to see how far ahead of us the group had stopped for lunch. They were over two and a half miles away. We asked for a rescue, and two young men came back in a four-wheeler to pick us up.

We caught up with the group and called it a day.

Edith’s daughter was holding two lunches for us, but her horse ran away and she was out chasing after it. We didn’t dare let the drive’s wagons and chow wagons leave without catching a ride, so we came into the evening camp around 3 pm without lunch.

I remembered Maple Nuts that we had bought at Bass Pro Shop; and we drank more water and shared these, too. So that was lunch–Maple nuts and water

What a day. We are discussing just how we should do the drive tomorrow.

Hopefully, we’ll make it; but we’re thinking that we may try to only do a half day, if we can get a ride again.

Also, we never saw the cattle all day long, except until they came in for the evening. They left before we finished breakfast this morning, and they left lunch before we got there. Not exactly the experience I expected, but what a misadventure!

I also realized that I had not thought about Elizabeth since we left the morning camp.

There is a little of everything out here. People dressed in western or in period costumes. One young cowboy dressed like Rowdy Yates. Some look like they’ve been rode hard and put up wet.

We have men who dressed like saloon card sharks and ladies dressed like pioneer women. One woman dressed like a soiled dove, and she’s quite popular. Very interesting group. These are pictures from one of the two earlier drives.

OLD AGE IS NOT FOR SISSIES

NOTHING IN LIFE IS TO BE FEARED